


The Twisted Picture

by ParadiseAvenger



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Drugs, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:32:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Nims. The murders could be traced to Syaoran, an unstable young man. Sakura was no one, just the adopted sister of Detective Fai Fluorite. Once the case was closed, life would be simple again. But it was never that easy, was it? AU. SXS. Discontinued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Natural Life

For Nims Dias-angelovdarkness who sent me the base for this story. I hope you like it! And I’m sorry it took me so long to get around to it, especially now that I put it on hold and am now rewriting the whole thing.

Grah. This chapter is very realistic right now. It’s so bloody hot here. It’s a million degrees in the shade. It’s sweaty sitting still, especially with the hot laptop on my lap. So I am suffering to type this chapter out for you all. I expect some reviews!

X X X

It was ungodly hot outside, even for the middle of July. The temperature was soaring over one hundred degrees and had been for the past four days. It was humid and muggy and buggy. You could break a sweat sitting still indoors with the lights out and the fan on. Some people were lucky enough to have air conditioning, others not so much.

Sakura Kinomoto was one of the “not so much.” She was sitting on the beat-up beige sofa in the living room of her blocky redbrick apartment complex. She had all the fans whirring at top speed, her feet in a bucket of ice water, and a paper fan in her hand with which to fan herself. Even with all that, she was still sticky with sweat and uncomfortable. Lying across some threadbare throw pillows, she reached for the remote and turned on the television, hoping that some brain cell killing TV would distract her from the horrendous heat wave.

“The Fang-Killer strikes again!” The anchorwoman, a peppy pretty blonde in a low-cut red silk blouse, was saying in her false-grievous voice. “Two more bodies have been discovered in an alley in the center of the city. They have been mutilated and tortured beyond recognition. Nothing is known about their identities at this time. The police are investigating fiercely. Anyone with information on the Fang-Killer is asked to contact the police immediately.”

Feeling nauseous, Sakura changed the channel to violent Tom and Jerry cartoons, but her mind refused to leave the horrendous thoughts of this loose murderer.

The Fang-Killer had left behind only two survivors, a man and a woman. They had quivered dangerously on the edge of death in the hospital for three days before the man came around. He woke up screaming, screaming about the scars on his face, the scars that looked like fangs! Then, he fought the nurse that tried to restrain him, promptly reopened an internal injury, and died. The woman was much more lucid upon awakening, but her throat had been cut by the Fang-Killer. She had no voice to tell authorities what she had seen. When she finally took up a pencil with her shaking hands she was only able to write two words: the fangs.

Sakura stopped fanning herself because suddenly her skin was icy with fear-sweat. 

The people had been tortured, mutilated, damaged beyond repair. Cause of death was always a single bullet directly to the forehead, blowing apart the entire back of the head. These victims had been alive, surviving each and every torture this Fanged-Killer bestowed upon them until he put that gun to their heads and blew them away. Parts of them had been skinned to the bone, beaten black and blue and raw, bloody to a pulp. Ribs were cracked. Fingers snipped off at each joint and then cauterized closed to keep them alive. The bones in their faces had been crushed, shattered. Burning poison. Thick horrible oozing burns in the most tender parts of the flesh: genitals, eyes, mouth, tongue, feet, and stomach. Closer to death, vital organs had been punctured, lungs deflated, stomach acid let into the chest cavity. But they always survived to the end, survived until that gun was put to their heads.

By then, surely, these people begged for death. 

Her brother, Fai, was a detective and he was working closely with his best friend Kurogane on this case. They had one suspect, but it was only a small chance. Syaoran Li had been involved in an old case. His parents and twin brother had been murdered one night. Syaoran was the only survivor, but it was unsure whether he had killed them or had simply been beaten and then left alive with the latter being less likely. After his conviction and the charges of murdering his family were placed on his young shoulders, Syaoran had gone insane. He was twenty-five now, having been only a child when the murders had happened. 

Fai had shown her a picture of him and she saw that Syaoran had fang-like scars around his mouth. Syaoran Li had recently escaped from the prison asylum he had been held in. That troubled the police greatly. It was a secret right now that Syaoran was a suspect while the asylum conducted their search for him silently and efficiently. If Syaoran wasn’t the killer, then they didn’t want the real one knowing he had a doppelganger suitable for framing. After all, they had no proof other than the scars on his mouth.

Sakura splashed her face with cold water and tried to get her emotions back under her control. 

Yes, this guy was clearly a crazed and unstable killer who must have enjoyed torturing his victims for how careful and long he tormented them, but he had nothing to do with her. Fai and Kurogane would catch the Fang-Killer and that would be that. Smiling to herself, she turned off the TV and went to put on clean clothes. 

She worked as a waitress at the little diner down the street from her apartment: Paradise Falls. There was nothing particularly exciting about working as a waitress. Customers were assholes, fellow waitresses were exhausted and bored, and the boss was a dick who was only capable of thinking with his dick. She thought the name was fitting. Paradise did Fall in the stupid little diner. 

…

It was so hot outside that the sweat dried on her skin within seconds, only to be replaced by more. She had to hoof it six blocks to the diner in this heat. Grumbling to herself, she shouldered her purse and scraped her short caramel hair off of her neck with a butterfly clip.

No one was about on the street. It was far too hot for any activity whatsoever. 

“Hey, Sakura! Wait up!” 

Sakura turned to see Tomoyo jogging up behind her, black hair pulled up into a tight bun high on her head. How that girl managed to have any energy whatsoever in this heat was a mystery that Sakura desperately wanted solved.

“Hey, Tomoyo, isn’t it a little hot to be running?” Sakura asked.

Tomoyo looked up into the burning bright sky, squinting and shading her eyes with her hand. Then, she wiped her brow with a handkerchief and said, “Yeah I guess so.” 

Sakura chuckled and held the door open for her friend. Paradise Falls was a crappy little eighties diner with a black and white checkered floor, maraschino-poison-cherry-red booths, old chrome jukebox, and blessed air-conditioning. The air-conditioning kissed Sakura’s skin beautifully, chilling the sweat on her skin and making her shiver. Right now, she would have sold her soul to sleep on the grungy floor just to be in the air-conditioning. 

Beside her, Tomoyo stretched and yawned. “Another day, another dollar,” she said with a smile and bounced off to fetch her apron. Tomoyo only worked at Paradise Falls to supplement the pay she was earning as a nurse. Sakura was a little jealous of Tomoyo’s bright future.

“Yay,” Sakura said sarcastically and meandered over to her first customer of the night. “Hi, welcome to Paradise Falls. My name is Sakura and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with a drink?”

“I’ll have whatever is making those jade eyes of yours so shiny, sugar,” the man said and licked his lips. 

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I’m taken,” she muttered though it wasn’t true. Tomoyo wore a wedding ring just to keep the boys off her.

“I could be twice the man he is,” the guy continued, not getting the hint.

Sakura leaned down, allowing his eyes to wander at her cleavage. “Listen up, bub, hit on me one more time and I’ll get Arai,” she paused to point at the burly man who tended bar every night, “to kick your ass. Got it?” 

He glanced from her to Arai and then nodded. Apparently, having it out with the ex-bouncer wasn’t worth a little pussy. Sakura smiled cheekily to herself. 

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be too bad.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns? 


	2. Assault! Savior or Assailant?

Okay everyone, you will notice some similarities to the original stuff I wrote because I didn’t trash it all, but I’m rewriting this entire story. So everyone who started reading this, so sorry, but you’ll have to start all over!

X X X

It was dark on the street. Most of the streetlamps were distantly placed and then only half of them worked. Fai had asked her many times to move into a different neighborhood, but she could support herself easily here. A better class would have broken the bank. Besides, the moon was glowing big and bright high in the cloudless sky and the stars were watching down on her. The moon cast eerie flickering shadows, stretching Sakura’s out long and thin, making her legs look shaky and wavering.

“Bye, Sakura,” Tomoyo called behind her. “See you tomorrow!”

“Have a good night,” Sakura called back to her friend. 

Sakura was lazily, exhausted by the heat and a long day of working with assholes, walking down the street. Maybe that was why it was so easy for the man to grab her. Though she would later think it crazy for any robber or murderer to be out and about on such an ungodly hot day, but clearly the weather did not matter because he took her.

A hot sweaty hand slammed across her throat, twisted her neck to the side painfully, and dragged her back into an alley.

Oh god, was her only thought. It’s the Fang-Killer. He’s going to torture me. Oh god!

She screamed bloody murder, as loud as she could, so loud that her own ears hurt. Her heart slammed into her ribcage like a trapped animal and she struggled against her assailant. She flailed for a moment, randomly landing a few faint blows. Then, she managed to get her head on straight. Kurogane and Fai had taught her to defend herself, not that she was going to run out and cage fight, but she could get her purse back from a common street thief and hopefully save herself from agonizing death. 

She got her foot up and managed to get it into her assailant’s crotch. It was a man and he howled in agony, gripping her hair and wrenching her head back viciously. Sweat ran into her eyes, blinding her. She flailed against him, found his face with the side of her hand, and gouged her fingernail into his eye. Screaming, the man slammed her into the brick wall, tearing the flesh from the side of her face. Her vision swam, spotted with black. 

Her limbs felt leaden and weak. Her legs buckled beneath her, slamming into the concrete. She tried to scream, but her voice got caught somewhere in her dry throat. 

“You bitch,” the man snarled. His voice was hot and gravelly with pain next to her ear. 

A cold blade pressed against her throat as a warning. She would have frozen stock still if she could have gotten her feet underneath her, but she couldn’t so she hung limply from the man’s hot hands. The blade carved through the soft skin at the base of her throat, cutting a trail through her blouse down between her full breasts. The blade reached the center of her sternum and began to press in.

She knew she was dead.

Sakura closed her eyes tightly and tried not to think about the blade pressing through her flesh.

“That’s a good bitch,” the man growled. His hand wrapped securely around her middle while the other hand kept pressure on the knife. “We’re going to have lots of fun with you. I’m sure your brother will enjoy finding the little pieces of your body we decide to give him.” The knife pressed deeper to accent his next words. “Bit by bit, you’ll get to be buried. How would you like that?”

She choked on her tongue. “No,” she whispered, not for herself but for Fai. Fai had already buried his entire family: his grandparents, his mother, his father, and his twin brother. He had taken Sakura in when she had no one left. Sakura was his angel, the girl who would never break his heart by dying before him since she was so young and vibrant. Her death would destroy him. Sakura began to struggle anew, but the blade shuddered down the expanse of her ribcage, slicing neatly through her bra and her blouse.

The clothing fell open, revealing her shiny white naked skin. Her breasts were full and splattered with bright red blood. “Let me go!” she screamed. She balled her hand into a fist and struck blindly behind her head. She heard her assailant’s nose crack beneath her knuckles. The man howled, tripped over something, and they both slammed headlong into the brick wall. Sakura’s face once again knocked into the wall, tearing away more flesh. 

He released her this time and she stumbled away. Her own feet tripped her up and she landed hard on her back, hitting her head once again on the pavement. She looked up into her assailant’s face and a finger of ice shot through her body. 

His face was streaked with blood from his gushing broken nose. His dark hair was plastered to his face with sweat, obscuring most of his face. He was absently handsome with flat cheeks, a strong square jaw, heavy brows, and a long protruding nose. “Now, bitch, you’re last chance just ran out!” he shouted.

Her entire body was leaden from the three blows her head had taken. She was unable to get up, unable to escape, and now she would die. 

Suddenly, light was blocked at the entrance of the alley. She heard footsteps and someone leaped over her prone body, skidding on the rough concrete. The blade clattered across the concrete, ringing loudly, and then it was snatched up.

“Back off,” a new voice hissed. It was strong and solid, but soft, softer than a whisper. “Get away from her. She’s mine.” 

Sakura tried to sit up, tried to see her savior, but her head swam and black spotted her vision. All she could make out was the final rays of the burning sun glinting off the bloodstained blade and the ghost-pale face of her assailant. Her savior was a dark silhouette holding the glimmering blade like a fallen sliver of moon. 

“Fine, bastard, take her. It’s the same as if you had done it yourself,” the bloody man snarled. 

Then, everything around Sakura when black.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns? 


	3. Underground! Tomb or Haven?

*yawn*

X X X

It was dim and cool.

Sakura woke up on a thin creaking cot, covered in a quilt that appeared hand-sewed and smelled of dust and mothballs. She was shirtless, but still had on the rest of her clothes. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness of the room. The walls were old stone of many different shapes and sizes held together with the old mud-colored concrete. It was windowless and by the smell Sakura figured that it was underground in some shape or form. The room was empty save the bed which was pushed tightly against the cold stone wall and a tall brass floor lamp with its cord running beneath the heavy door. 

She wanted to take apart the lamp to use as a weapon, but she couldn’t bear the thought of being in this room without light.

She wiggled her fingers and toes and found nothing broken or excruciatingly painful. She threw back the covers and put her feet on the floor. Sitting up, Sakura found that all her wounds had all been carefully cleaned and bandaged though the injury on her chest had bled through the gauze. Her vision swam dizzily and the entire room spun violently. She put her hand to her head and found her hair stiff with dried blood and several pads of gauze taped over the damaged parts of her flesh. 

She was so lightheaded that she had to practically crawl across the floor to reach the big wooden door held together with tarred beams and heavy iron bolts. There was no knob on the inside and no cracks large enough for her to look out. She struck weakly on the door, but it was frighteningly solid. Feeling even more faint, she made her way back to the bed and collapsed in a heap on top of the covers. Pain shot through her chest and she made a small sound of agony.

Something made a grinding noise, but she did not turn to look. 

It seemed that her savior had failed in rescuing her. Maybe he had been killed himself in his attempt.

She sobbed into the dusty pillow, but soft warm hands touched her back gently.

“Roll over.” 

She shook her head and gave a small whine of pain. The hands wrapped around her small body, lifted her, shifted her, and then laid her down against the pillows on her back. She found herself staring into beautiful honey-colored eyes flecked with flint-dark amber. The eyes were fringed with dark lashes so long they shadowed his face and the right eye was framed by blue-black bruises but no swelling. It was an old injury. His lips were pressed thin and framed with two scars from brutal splits in the flesh that looked almost like fangs. Framing his picture perfect face were thick locks of chocolate-colored hair. 

The Fang-Killer! Oh god, it had to be him! He was just standing before her, looking at her with surprisingly gentle eyes that harbored no ill intentions. 

She blinked at him incredulously. Maybe she had a concussion. After all, her head had taken a good knock. 

“Y-you…” she whispered. 

He didn’t say anything, just put one hand on her shoulder and held her against the bed. Her stomach filled with lead as his free hand went to her chest. Was he going to rape and kill her? Torture her before finally putting the bullet in her brain? She put both hands against his chest and tried to shove him back. His chest was stone-hard and chiseled with muscle beneath her palms. It would take a force from Heaven or Hell to move him, especially with her head spinning the way it was. 

“It’s alright,” he said in that incredibly soft voice of his. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.” 

He peeled the gauze off her naked chest, tape sticking to the dried blood on her skin, and she scrambled to cover herself. Her chest heaved and she could feel her heart thundering under her ribcage. Respectfully, he drew the quilt over her lower chest, but continued peeling back the long expanse of gauze.

“W-wait! Stop,” Sakura protested. 

She almost pressed her hand over the wound, but he caught her hand and pinned it deftly to the mattress. He had a dish of warm water and a clean piece of cloth. He yanked off the remainder of the gauze on her chest almost carelessly so that she let out a small squeak of surprise. Then, he dabbed the dried blood from her flesh with surprising tenderness. Some fresh blood seeped from the knife wound spanning from the hollow of her throat down past the bottom of her sternum between the valley of her breasts. He showed little interest in her naked breasts, nipples peeking out from between her fingers. 

Once the long gouge on her chest was sufficiently cleaned up, he taped a fresh length of gauze over her wounded flesh. Then, he released her hand from where he had been holding it tightly. He cupped her face, gripping her jaw firmly between his fingers. Again, he got the cloth, although it was now soiled pink with her blood, and began carefully washing the blood from her hair. It was a losing fight. Sakura would need a real shower to get all the blood from her hair and the sweat from her skin.

He seemed to realize this, too, and moved on to washing the blood from the side of her neck. He investigated the bandages around her head and on the side of her face, but did not change them. 

Finally, he picked up the basin of cooling water and the damp bloody cloth and left the room. When he pulled open the door, Sakura glimpsed a dark stone hallway made in the same fashion as the room she was in. The door swung shut, but did not lock. She was going to stagger up and attempt to escape, but a moment later he stepped back through the doorway. He was carrying a tray with a small meal spread out on it and a worn grey shirt. 

There was a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread slathered with thick butter, half an apple, cored out in the center but left in perfect half, and a tall tumbler of clear water. He laid the tray beside her on the bed, ducked back into the hallway, and returned with a roughhewn three-legged stool. He closed the door, put the stool in front of it, and sat down. 

He sat there silently, just watching her. 

“Are you… going to kill me?”

He didn’t say anything, but he closed those gentle eyes of his. 

“Is this… poisoned?” 

He stood up from the stool, closed the space between them, and Sakura scrambled back against the wall, clutching the quilt to her bare chest. He perched on the edge of the bed, lifted the spoon, and took a small sip of the soup. Then, he offered the spoon to her in his open hand. There were many crisscrossing scars up the inside of his wrist. Timidly, Sakura took the spoon from him and held it tightly.

“I guess not, otherwise… you wouldn’t have tasted it, right?” 

She was hungry. 

He simply sat silently beside her as she ate, just watching her. Then, he took the cleaned tray and left the room. She heard the lock sliding, scraping, and then banging down like the condemning sound of a judge’s gavel, on the other side of the door. For a moment, Sakura stared at the door and then pulled on the shirt he had brought her to hide her naked chest. 

She was once again alone.

...

Kurogane’s cell phone vibrated his entire bed. It was tempting to simply ignore it, but with all the murders going on in the city, he was on-call twenty-four/seven. Growling, he pulled his face from his pillow and glowered at the screen. 

It was Fai.

For a moment, it was even more tempting to ignore the call because if Fai was on then there was no need for him and he could get a few more hours sleep. But… if Fai was calling him, then it must be important. Kurogane picked up the same time his answering machine did. Swearing, he waited a moment and then started to dial Fai’s number to call him back. 

The phone vibrated in his hand before he could even press Send.

A shiver ran down his spine. 

Something was very wrong!

“Fai?” he said quickly. “What is it?”

“Kurogane, she’s gone!” Fai was hysterical, his girlish voice edged with wild panic.

“What? Who’s gone?” He sucked in a breath. “Not Xing-Huo Reed. She’s our prime witness! If she’s gone, this entire case will collapse around our ears!”

“No, no! Sakura! Sakura’s gone!”

“Your sister? Why would she be gone?” Kurogane asked, trying to be reasonable. “What happened?”

“To get to me! We were supposed to have dinner tonight and I went to her apartment to pick her up, but it’s completely ransacked! Written on the wall is: You’ll get the bitch back in bloody pieces, Detective! Oh god, Kurogane, what should I do? That lunatic has my sister!” Fai shrieked. “The Fang will tear her body to pieces and send them to me gift wrapped!”

Kurogane could hear things breaking in the background. Fai was probably throwing his family photographs to the floor, breaking the frame and the glass. He could imagine his best friend walking across that mess in bare feet, leaving a trail of blood on the white tile floor. 

He thought of the bodies they already had on slabs in the morgue, twelve count and rising, torn apart and beaten and skinned and damaged beyond identification other than dental and DNA. He liked Sakura. She was a sweet kid and she meant the world to Fai. The thought of her body like that… made him sick!

“Fai, calm down. Take a breath,” he said flatly.

“He’s going to clip off her fingers. He’ll burn her from the inside with those pokers. God, Kurogane, you saw what he did to those people. He enjoys what he does! He enjoys torturing them. He’s unstable. He needs to be caught! He needs to be killed!”

“Fai, calm down,” he repeated.

“We don’t even know why he’s doing this! He’s a complete psycho! And now, he has my Sakura! Oh god, Kurogane, oh god, oh god! Shit! I bet he’s already taken off her fingers. I bet it’s in the mail already, on its way to my doorstep.” 

More breaking noises in the background. Fai made a tormented sound deep in his chest and his breath rattled in his chest. 

Kurogane took a deep breath.

“Fai, calm the fuck down! Okay?” Kurogane shouted into the phone. “You’re not doing yourself any good fucking freaking out! Calm down.” He sat up in bed and shoved his cold feet into socks. “We’re going to find her. I’m on my way to the kid’s apartment. Meet me there.” 

Fai was quiet, shocked into silence. 

Kurogane rarely lost control of his emotions like that. He was more distraught than Fai had first realized. 

“Okay, Fai?” Kurogane growled.

“Alright, yes,” Fai choked out and then hung up. 

Kurogane dressed, grabbed his keys and his piece, and locked his house behind him. It was scorching hot outside, like air was seeping into this hideous city from Hell itself.

X X X

Well, Nims, is it everything you hoped for? I need a couple chapters to get the plot up and rolling. Relationships and backgrounds are being laid out, tension is building, the weather is getting freaking hotter as time goes on. The picture is being painted, leaving you all to wonder when it becomes twisted…

Reviews please. I need motivation in this bloody heat.

Questions, comments, concerns?


	4. Confession! Truth or Lies?

Ooh, everyone loves this story it seems! 

Let’s kick it into high gear! On with the chapter…

X X X

It had been seven days, by Sakura’s calculations.

The days went on like that, endlessly it seemed. Three times each day, Syaoran came into her dark little room with food and clean bandages. The first few times, she fought against him when he tried to help her, but then for two days she allowed him without quarrel. Every time, it was the same… he came in, sat on that stool, and watched her eat. He rarely, if ever, spoke to her. He just stared at her with those eyes of his.

Those eyes were what she remembered most from the photograph Fai had shown her of Li Syaoran. His eyes were golden and gentle. How could such kind eyes be capable of such atrocities? 

But it seemed that more and more people were slipping around the prison board. He wasn’t rehabilitated. He had just learned to hide.

He was unstable. 

He had murdered his parents.

He had murdered his twin brother.

He had tortured and killed even more people since then.

But, those eyes… and he was so kind to her, never showing ill-intentions…

Sakura knew she had to get out. Stockholm syndrome would surely set in on her if things continued going the way they were.

She had to get out.

…

It was dinner time. Sakura had no way of telling if Syaoran was late feeding her, but her stomach was grumbling emptily. She lay flat on her back on the bed, hands folded neatly over her stomach, staring at the stone ceiling, waiting… 

Finally, she heard the lock scraping on the other side of the door and Syaoran stepped in.

Her breath got lost in her throat.

He was covered in blood, but… 

It appeared to all be his… 

There was a long ugly gash across his cheekbone, spilling rivulets of thick crimson down his throat and chest. The gash was still bleeding, but sluggishly. The healing bruises around his eye had faded only to be replaced with more and his gentle amber eye was lost beneath the swelling. His shirt was cut into tatters, pale flesh beneath marred with thin cuts as if he had barely avoided a blade. Deep in his side, there was a knife. It had a hilt carved with the face of a sea monster, jaws opened and teeth bloody. Sakura wondered momentarily if the monster’s tail was embedded deep in his body someplace else. The fang scars in his mouth made him look like a demon rather than a beaten human.

He didn’t walk so much as stagger to her bedside and set down the tray for her. Then, he looked into her face, deep into her eyes, as if conveying something she didn’t understand. Finally, he stood up and left the room. The lock ground into place and all Sakura’s thoughts of escape went out the window.

What exactly was going on with this young man? 

…

Kurogane had been there exactly 56 seconds when the younger blond pulled into the apartment complex’s parking lot. He didn’t particularly wait in the air conditioned lobby, but he didn’t race to his friend’s side either. He more… hastened.

Sweat or tears were streaking Fai’s pale face. His sapphire eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. His blond hair was mussed and his uniform was crumpled as if slept in. He was a far cry from the ace detective he usually was. Detective Fai Fluorite could put the fear of God into anyone with just a look. Word among criminals was that his blue eyes turned gold when he sensed you were lying. Which was rather strange considering Fai was the most amicable and fair-looking detective the city had on staff.

Kurogane was the dark and monstrous-looking detective with a coarse temper to match. Kurogane was taller than slim feminine Fai with broad shoulders and a strong jaw. His eyes were blood-red beneath heavy stern brows and his mouth was always pointing down at the corners. His gun was more an extension of his arm and his aim was spot on. Fai, on the other hand, had trouble hitting the broad side of a barn.

They were photo negative images of each other, but somehow it all worked. 

He met Fai in the shade of the awning outside the double glass doors of the apartment lobby. Kurogane put his hand on Fai’s narrow shoulder and sort of hugged him comfortingly as their friendship ran deep. He didn’t ask if Fai was okay because that was a stupid question so Kurogane cut right to the chase.

“Do you have the key to her apartment?” Kurogane asked.

Fai nodded numbly. 

Together, they went up to Sakura’s apartment. True to his word and with no exaggeration, the apartment had been completely ransacked. The couch was overturned, shredded, cushions spilling gut-stuffing. The table and chairs had been splintered into ruin. Everything had been pulled out of the kitchen cabinets and strewn across the floor. The ruin traveled down the hallway to her bedroom and bathroom, but Kurogane didn’t go to look. 

The Fang-Killer, maybe Syaoran Li, maybe not, did not appear to be a sexual deviant. His mutilation of genitals and women was brutal but efficient. He seemed to have no desire to rape. But… his victims had been so horribly mutilated that he may have fucked them with the barrel of a shotgun and the police would never know. The coroner was good, but she was not a miracle worker.

Biting his lip, Kurogane forced himself to turn away from the hall to the girl’s bedroom and looked that the deep oily black words on the wall.

YOU’LL GET THE BITCH BACK IN BLOODY PIECES, DETECTIVE!

Fai leaned heavily against the wall and rubbed his face in his long-fingered hands. He looked pale and faint, a shade of his usual self. Kurogane closed the space between them and leaned on the wall next to him. 

“We’ll get him before he hurts her,” Kurogane said. 

“She could already be dead,” Fai whispered.

“Don’t say things like that. You’re only torturing yourself.”

“He killed his parents, Kurogane. He killed his brother, his twin brother.” Fai made a tormented sound low in his throat, deep inside. It was the sound of his heart breaking.

“Those cases were before our time,” Kurogane said flatly. “We don’t know anything about them. How do you know it was Syaoran Li?”

Fai shook his head. “I looked them up, went back and talked to a few of the officers on them, spoke with the judge.”

“Day shift capabilities,” Kurogane growled. “Everyone, witnesses and judges and corroborating officers, are asleep on the night shift.” 

“They all said that there was something horrible about him. Syaoran claimed over and over, crying and screaming, swearing in the face of God, that he didn’t hurt anyone. Worse yet, everyone I spoke to believed him, believed what he said, but the evidence… There were signs of cannibalism on his twin and,” Fai choked, “the flesh was in Syaoran’s stomach. There was no way he couldn’t have done it. He went crazy after they found him guilty, screaming and howling like his body was coming apart at the seams.”

“He was a convincing actor, thought he’d get off, didn’t, and went nuts,” Kurogane snapped. “The kid is unstable. He’s a psychopath.”

Fai shook his head vigorously, whipping blond strands from side to side. “He’s intelligent. He escaped from the mental institution he was being held in, but he didn’t kill anyone when he got out. Does that sound like unstable behavior?”

Kurogane sighed deeply. “So he pled insanity to stay out of prison. He’s not the first to do it.”

“He slaughtered his parents! He ate his twin!” Fai shouted.

“Calm the fuck down, Fai. What are you getting at here?”

Tears welled up in Fai’s blue eyes. “What would a man like that do to my Sakura?”

Kurogane shook his head.

Neither one of them really wanted to know.

…

By the time Syaoran returned to Sakura’s little underground room, she had finished the food and was waiting just aside the door. Thoughts of escape had returned to her head and she had the fork from her meal clenched tightly in her fist. The door opened and Sakura waited until she could see the whites of his eyes before springing herself on him.

The fork went into the flesh just below his collarbone and stuck there fast in the muscle. Sakura’s body, scant one hundred and two pounds, slammed into Syaoran’s sturdy frame like a freight train but he didn’t budge. He quickly wrapped his hand around the handle of the fork over Sakura’s hand and she could feel the heat of his skin seeping through to her bones, burning hot with a raging fever. She gasped, but his other arm only wrapped tightly around her waist and pulled her irrevocably against his hard frame. She tried to struggle, but he had her completely trapped. 

Behind himself, he kicked the door closed and then walked her backward to the bed where he proceeded to, not unkindly, throw her down against the pillows. For a moment, he stared at her and then his attention turned to the fork embedded in his flesh. Without so much as a wince or expression of pain, he pulled the fork out of himself and laid it down on her tray. Then, he took the tray, put it outside the room, and returned to sit beside her on the bed.

For a long moment, he just sat there looking at his hands with his throat working furiously.

Sakura took in the sight of him. He had cleaned up: washed the blood off and changed his clothes and gotten bandaged. The ugly gash on his cheek had a thick pad of gauze taped over it and the tape was hastily going beneath his jaw. Some blood had seeped through. The swelling around his eye had gone down though the white was thickly occluded with blood. He had on a fresh shirt, long sleeved, so she couldn’t see the small cuts beneath, but he was sitting stiffly. Surely his entire torso was wrapped to contain the blood from where the sea serpent knife had been stabbed into his side.

He wet his lips, tracing his tongue over the fang-like scars almost unconsciously. Then, he lifted one hand and she saw his knuckles were wrapped tightly with strips of black leather. 

“Listen to me,” he said quietly. His voice was so light, as if the wind was blowing it away. “I’m sorry it has to be this way, but he would have killed you otherwise.”

Sakura’s blood ran cold. “Killed me?” she whispered. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

He shook his head and his entire back trembled. “I didn’t kill my family,” he whispered. “Fei-Wang Reed did. He framed me… framed me for the death of the parents I loved and for…” a sob caught in his throat, choking his words. “…and for my brother… my wonderful twin brother. God, he fed him to me…”

Sakura bit her lip. Everything Fai told her contradicted this, but Syaoran… She really wanted to believe him. It sounded like he was telling the truth. 

“You… are Detective Fai Fluorite’s sister. Fei-Wang was going to kill you to get back at Fai for catching his daughter, Xing-Huo Reed,” he said softly. “He’s been after me, trying to hurt me. He sent people into the asylum. You cannot know how unsafe it is behind iron bars and insanity. No one would believe me, said I did it to myself. They helped me escape, planning to use me as a scapegoat again, but I found out about you, about the man he sent to catch you and I got away…”

Sakura’s mind flew to the attack in the alley. That man did say something about her brother and how he could have her body back in pieces. She went her lips, but her voice was lost somewhere in her throat. 

Syaoran nodded as if agreeing with something in her mind. “He was going to take you, torture you, kill you, and then pin it on me.”

She made a small sound in her throat.

“I found out and I got in his way. That’s why he hurt me…” Syaoran’s hand went to the bruises around his amber eye and touched it gently. “I'm not a bad person,” he whispered. 

“You saved me, but you’re… unstable. You’re a murderer. You tortured all those people! You killed them!” Sakura’s voice got higher and higher with each accusation and Syaoran took it quietly, unmoving. Then, finally, Sakura wore herself out. She put her face in her hands and drew her legs against her chest. “You’re…”

“I’m not a bad person,” Syaoran repeated. “I just… want to be innocent again…”

Sakura sobbed into her knees. 

Beside her, Syaoran was dead silent.

After a long moment, he stood up and left. 

Sakura was once again completely and utterly alone.

She didn’t know what to believe…

X X X

Sorry it took me so long. I’ve been busy. 

Everyone should check out SakuraSou1307’s DeviantArt gallery. Anyone who read “His Body in Chains” knows what I’m talking about. Remove the spaces. You know the drill. Here’s the link: ht tp : // sourin. deviantart. com/ gallery/

Questions, comments, concerns?

Reviews!


	5. The Reaper! Life or Death?

I’ve covered everything Nims asked me to do so… (rubs hands together)… I get to go crazy now! Woohoo!

X X X

Syaoran laid his aching body down on the couch he kept in the hallway outside the girl’s room. Looking up, he traced the endless pattern of mismatched stones in the ceiling, trying to distract himself. Exhausted, he knew sleeping was a hopeless pursuit, but he tried anyway. He struggled to find a comfortable position, but the stab wound in his side was so painful. Every breath sent a spike of white-hot agony through his body down to his very bone marrow. He needed real medical attention, but he couldn’t risk it. If he was captured by the police, he was going to jail for the rest of his life and Fei-Wang was free to reap the rotting fruits of the city. 

He had to find evidence to prove his innocence and then he could go to the police and tell them everything. He could put Fei-Wang behind bars and he could visit his family’s graves. It was a sad and twisted goal, but it was all he really wanted.

Actually, that was a lie.

He wanted his family back. He wanted to turn back his time and save them. Maybe, if he had been home when it happened… if he hadn’t been tired from running track… if he had only been stronger… maybe then he could have saved them! He knew he was just torturing himself and even if he did go back there would be nothing he could do. Fei-Wang Reed was too strong, too well-armed, too determined to destroy him.

Syaoran didn’t even know why…

His family had been fighting the Reeds for as long as he could remember. His father was supposed to tell him why when he turned sixteen, but… Syaoran’s entire family had been murdered by Fei-Wang when he was twelve. So, he didn’t know why…

He pressed his hand over the wound in his side. It was hot, burning with mild acid or poison or the beginning of an infection. He held his breath, trying to soothe the agony of the wound, but to no avail. He could hear the girl crying and his heart ached for what he was doing.

He wanted to tell her everything, explain to her why he was doing what he was doing, but… He didn’t know why he couldn’t seem to speak to her. His voice was lost somewhere in his chest and had been since he had been forced to swallow the flesh of his twin. 

Tears leaked beneath his lids, trailing down his cheeks. 

Someone put a cool cloth over his face and he started violently, sending a blade of agony through is body. Whimpering, he looked up into Yukito’s gentle and apologetic face.

“I’m sorry, Syaoran. I thought you were asleep, crying in your sleep,” Yukito said kindly and laid a cool white hand on Syaoran’s forehead. “You’re burning up. Let me get you something for the pain.”

Syaoran shook his head. “No, I need to be awake.”

“Nonsense,” Yukito said shortly. “There’s no reason for you to suffer. I’ll tend the girl.”

“You shouldn’t be caught in this,” Syaoran whispered.

Yukito was Syaoran’s only friend now. 

He was the priest of the church they were hiding beneath. (The church was still equipped with secret rooms and secret passages from the days of slavery and escapes. Everything was underground, under the church, with a secret entrance only Yukito had the key to. They were relatively safe there.) Yukito was risking everything just to shelter Syaoran and now he was holding Detective Fluorite’s sister in one of the rooms below the church. He was as deep in it as Syaoran, maybe deeper since Syaoran was thought to be unstable. 

Yukito was slender and pale. His hair was soft grey-silver from trauma at a young age. His eyes were light blue-grey and hidden behind glasses. His hands were gentle and practiced, long and white and strangely feminine, but strong. 

Yukito’s eyes smiled, but his face remained stern and decisive. “No, Syaoran. Let me get you something for the pain. I’ll take care of the girl. It’s alright, really,” he said and gently pushed Syaoran back against the cushions. “You’re hurt badly. You should rest.”

Syaoran took a deep breath and winced in pain. 

Yukito laid the cool cloth over his forehead again and walked quickly away to fetch medicine from one of the other rooms. When he returned with a bottle of water and a pill of pain killer, strong morphine, Syaoran took it almost eagerly. He was so tired and so hurt, all he wanted to do was sleep.

After only a few moments, a curtain veiled his eyes. The last thing he remembered was Yukito draping a blanket over him.

…

Breakfast, Sakura thought to herself when she heard the lock grinding on the other side of the door. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and yawned. It felt rather early, too early. Suddenly, she snapped her head in the direction of the door and was shocked not to see Syaoran stepping through it.

It was another man, a different man. He was pale and kind-looking and wearing a priest’s collar. “It’s alright,” he said. “My name is Yukito.”

Sakura watched him with narrowed jade-green eyes, unsure.

He smiled at her and his eyes were like Syaoran’s… deep gentle wonderful eyes… 

Sakura sat back against the wall and crossed her legs. Yukito came and sat beside her and he watched her cut her eyes to the unlocked door.

“You should stay here,” he said kindly and put out the tray before her. “It’s safe here. No one knows you or Syaoran are here except me. You’re beneath my church, in underground rooms from the slave era. I guard the door during the day upstairs.”

“Why are you helping him?” Sakura whispered and lifted the bunch of grapes from her plate. She popped one into her mouth, no longer fearing they would poison her. 

Yukito looked at his long white hands where the rested in his lap. “What is your name?”

She swallowed, hesitated, and then said, “Sakura Kinomoto.”

“Well, Sakura, I am helping Syaoran because I have known him since he was very small. He is not a killer and he is not a psychopath,” Yukito said plainly.

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell,” Sakura snapped. She didn’t know why she was suddenly defensive and angry. This man had done nothing to her. Syaoran was the one that had kidnapped her and locked her here, not Yukito. And even then, Syaoran had done nothing to her either. She had been hurt by that man in the alley.

Yukito nodded in agreement. “Did he tell you why you are here?”

“He said someone was going to kill me to get to Fai.”

Yukito nodded again. “Fei-Wang Reed. He’s an underground drug lord.”

Sakura narrowed her eyes again. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“No, you haven’t. For years now, he has blamed his acts on Syaoran. Everyone that has been killed under Syaoran’s name was really destroyed by Fei-Wang. As of late though, Syaoran has been dismantling his plans.” He looked hard at Sakura, drilling his soft blue-grey eyes into hers. “Like his plan to kill you. If it wasn’t for Syaoran, you would know suffering like no other on this earth.”

Sakura swallowed. The grape she had eaten suddenly felt like lead in her belly. 

Yukito put his hand on her shoulder. “I know this goes against everything you have heard, but you must believe me. You saw Syaoran’s body yesterday. I know he came to you before he came to see me and get his wounds dressed.” He fiercely held her gaze. “Do you think he did that to himself?”

Sakura jerked free of him. “You are a liar!”

“Am I?” 

She swallowed and looked desperately at the door. Maybe she could escape. Yukito did not look as strong as Syaoran. 

Sakura acted quickly and without thinking. She leaped into Yukito, knocking him to the cold stone floor. She heard his breath rush from his lungs on impact, but by then she was already half out the door. She slammed it behind her, spent a second trying to lock it, gave up, and started running again. Half-blind with terror and excitement, she slammed her thigh into the couch. Tripped up, Sakura crashed to her knees. Her hands went out to break her fall, digging into the cushions.

Then, she saw Syaoran and her breath stopped in her throat.

He looked worse than before. His face was gaunt and pale, his complexion waxy. His hair was plastered to his face and neck with sweat. His eyes had sunk deep into his head and bright red blood trailed from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and he was making small whimpering sounds, even in his sleep. He looked like death and Sakura felt the Reaper breathing down her back, looming over him.

Yukito exploded out of the room, red in the face and panting. 

Sakura looked up at him and she found her vision blurry with tears. “He needs a doctor, now,” she said.

Yukito skidded to a stop. Most likely wondering why she had escaped only to stop in a hallway at Syaoran’s side. “He can’t,” Yukito panted. “The police…”

“He’s dying,” Sakura said and put her hand on his chest. His breath was ragged and weak, shallow. “If he doesn’t get to a hospital, he’s going to die.”

“He’ll pull through,” Yukito protested. “He has to.”

Sakura shook her head. “He won’t.”

Yukito came and knelt at her side. “But…”

Sakura took a deep breath. “Let me use your phone. If what you say is true, I can get him help.”

“It is true. It’s all true!”

“Let me use your phone,” Sakura repeated. “Hurry!”

In an instant, Yukito was off.

Sakura bent over Syaoran and put her ear to his chest, listening to the faint beating of his heart. He made a small sound of pain, agony, anguish. She put her lips to his ear and whispered, “I’m going to get you some help. If you’re innocent, I’ll see you free. If not, so help me, I’ll watch you die.”

Someone’s voice went through her body. 

'You’ll never know if Syaoran dies, will you? And you have to know, don’t you?'

Sakura whirled around, but there was no one near her.

…

“Fai?”

“Oh God! Kurogane, it’s Sakura! Sakura, where are you?”

“I’m safe. I’ll explain later. Right now, I need you to listen to me, Fai,” Sakura said quickly. Yukito was breathing down her neck, raggedly, as if he was taking Syaoran’s death into himself. 

“What is it? Where are you? Sakura?!”

“Shut up!” Sakura shouted. 

Fai went stone-silent, dead-silent.

“I have Syaoran Li with me right here and this is going to go against everything you know, but I have reason to believe he’s innocent.”

“Oh, Sakura, no he’s not…”

“Shut up, Fai. He needs medical attention, urgently. He’s dying.”

“Where are you? I’ll send an ambulance.”

“No! He cannot be taken into custody. I’ll explain later, but it is imperative no one know where he is.”

Fai was silent for what felt like an eternity. Then, finally, he spoke, “You have a feeling, Sakura?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you? I’ll send Tomoyo.”

Sakura handed the telephone over to Yukito after explaining to Fai that she wasn’t exactly sure. She didn’t listen to Yukito giving her brother directions. She gripped Syaoran’s cold hand tightly in her own, as if she could hold the life in his body with sheer strength. 

Syaoran was still. 

Death was just at his shoulder.

Sakura felt the Reaper touch him lightly.

Syaoran’s body tightened, tensed, shuddered.

“No,” she whispered and rubbed his hand between her palms. 

Yukito put pale fingers to Syaoran’s throat and pleaded with Fai to hurry.

The Reaper passed through Syaoran, peeling away all that he was, taking his spirit to the ferry.

Sakura put her fingers to his wound, pulled him back with pain. For a moment, Syaoran held on, but then the Reaper pulled him away.

“No, no, no,” Yukito chanted. Sakura could hear Fai chattering in the priest’s ear, but he seemed not to hear.

Sakura held his hand, hurt his wound, digging her fingers into his side. 

Blood seeped through the gauze onto her fingers. 

It was cold.

X X X

And, cliffhanger!

Dun, dun, dun!

Questions, comments, concerns?


	6. Several Distorted Perspectives

I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this, but I’m going out so… 

Here you all are.

X X X

Sakura’s heart was pounding enough for both of them. She swung to her feet the instant she felt Syaoran’s heart shudder and stop. 

Yukito was desperately groping his neck, feeling for a pulse. 

She fisted her hands and laid them beneath the arch of Syaoran’s ribcage. He was so thin, like a little bird that she feared his bones would crack like dry twigs beneath her compressions. Biting her lower lip, she began to pump his chest. Her caramel hair was getting in her eyes as she frantically forced his heart to beat. Then, she shouldered Yukito aside, crashed her mouth to his, and breathed into him.

There was a lot of hair between their lips, but his chest rose with her breath.

Sakura returned and pumped his chest. Her lips were wet, glossy, parted, and her hair stuck to them. When she finished the compressions, she took a small moment to put her tresses behind her ears to keep them out of her face. This time, when she put her mouth to his and breathed into him, his chest rose and fell and continued. She felt Yukito’s cold white hand between their bodies, feeling his throat.

“A pulse! He has a pulse!”

Sakura opened her eyes and found that Syaoran’s amber orbs were opened wide and bloodshot. They stared into each other and Sakura felt as if he was reading her soul. She felt naked before him, all her sins laid bare. She put her hand on his chest, over the wound she had inflicted on him. 

They were still connected at the mouth though his breath was rushing through the space between their lips, escaping. 

Finally, suddenly, Sakura jerked away from him. Her lips ripped apart, tore as if they had been stuck to his. She put her hands to her mouth, burning the wound with her sweat.

Yukito had his hands on her shoulder, pulling her back, helping her sit down. “Sakura, Sakura! What just happened? Your mouth is all bloody!” Yukito gripped her shoulders, held her tightly against his warmth, and went to Syaoran’s side at the sofa.

She was staring at Syaoran, at his wide open amber eyes. His mouth was bloody too, covered in her torn flesh and her blood. 

Had he bitten her?

No… 

Something else…

There had been a connection and now it was torn.

Sakura felt dizzy, faint. She put her hand to her head like something in a very old movie and then, everything went dark around her.

…

Syaoran was falling into darkness. Everything around him was deep and cool. The abyss was swallowing him up, swallowing his pain and his sorrow. There was a kiss on his lips, tingling, spearing through him like a blade of heat. Then, something gripped his heart deep inside his chest and pulled. The pain was unbearable, spinning his vision and spotting his mind with white-hot light. It pulled harder, heedless of his agony. 

Something filled him up, pressed his lungs to bursting, and then there was more pain.

He tried to scream, but his voice was trapped and unable to escape.

White light bolted through him, blinding him. Then, the brightness faded and he was home.

His legs burned with exhaustion from running track and then jogging home. His throat tasted bloody and his mouth was dry. His heart was hammering against his ribcage like it was trying to escape. “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” he called through the darkness of his house. “Sora?”

There was movement and he turned on the lamp beside the door. In the ensuing brightness, Syaoran was half blind, but he wouldn’t get a chance to see anyway. 

“Syao! Get out of here!” Sora’s voice echoed through the house. There was pain in it, agony and tears, death.

“Sora!” Syaoran shouted. He didn’t take his twin’s advice and just door in the foyer, trying to see, trying to make out his brightened surroundings. Then, something slammed into the backs of his knees. His face hit the cold tile and his teeth went through the corner of his lip–one fang scar. Coughing, he tried to get up.

“Stay down, boy,” a cold voice said and he felt a heavy boot drilling into his back.

Sora wasn’t hysterical, not for himself at least. He wanted Syaoran to escape. He wanted his brother to be safe. “Fight him, Syao. Run! You have to escape! They’ve already killed Mom and Dad! You have to get out!” he shouted.

Syaoran ran track and Sora played soccer. Neither one of them was particularly strong. Together, they would have a chance, but alone… Syaoran’s chances of fighting alone and escaping were even slimmer. He needed his twin, Sora, his other half. 

“Get up, Syao!”

“Shut up, you miserable brat!” The cold voice said.

There was a horrible sound, a crunch and then Syaoran saw crimson blood roll like a river down the side of Sora’s face. His twin’s amber eyes rolled up in his head, came down, wavered, and then the arms that had been holding him back released him. Sora crashed to the ground in a heap, his hands reaching out, inches from Syaoran’s own fingers.

“Run, Syao…” he whispered. 

Those were the last words Sora ever said to him.

…

Syaoran slammed awake as if a freight train had hit him. His eyes shot open and he lurched upright, or tried to. Thin cotton rope held him down, kept his body tied to the bed, and he was too weak to break it. Gasping for breath, he realized there was no pain in his beaten body, which was rather strange considering the wounds he knew covered him. He rolled his eyes around the room, taking in his surroundings. 

He was not in a hospital. The walls were stone, not white, and the air was cool but musty. He was still beneath the church.

He made a small croaking noise and immediately, a young woman appeared at his side as if she had been waiting for him. She had a pretty face, unmarred porcelain-pale skin, and large violet eyes fringed with lashes thickly coated in mascara. Her face was framed by long wavy black curls.

For a moment, he thought, Xing-Huo Reed! 

But she put her hand on his chest and her touch was too gentle to be one of Fei-Wang’s children.

“Syaoran, is it? Are you feeling any pain?”

He shook his head quickly and struggled his shoulders beneath the rope binding him. 

She hushed him. “Be still. My name is Tomoyo. I am a nurse. I work with Sakura at Paradise Falls.”

His amber eyes widened and he tried to move his legs, finding them also bound to the bed. He made a small sound in his throat. 

What the hell had happened? The last thing he remembered was Yukito promising to take care of the girl and giving him some pain killers… and his dream. He always remembered his dreams. But now, there was a nurse bending over him and he was tied to a bed.

“Stop, stop. You’ll only hurt yourself more,” Tomoyo perched on the edge of his bed and put her hand on his chest. “Your heart it racing. You’re going to hurt yourself. Please, lie still.”

Unable to speak, he tried to push her away but his hands were bound as well. Panic blossomed in his chest, compressing his vital organs into squashed bloodless things. 

“Oh, gosh,” Tomoyo murmured. She rose from his side, went to the open doorway, and called for Yukito.

Yukito? Syaoran’s heart began to thunder. 

Had Yukito sold him out? No, surely not…

Had they been found out? Maybe the girl had escaped and told the cops…

Then, Yukito appeared in the doorway. His clothes were blood-spattered and he looked tired. Dark circles framed the priest’s blue-grey eyes. “Hey, Syaoran, how are you feeling?”

“What happened?”

“You were dying. We had to get you help.”

“We?”

“Sakura called her brother, Fai Fluorite, the detective and explained everything. They aren’t taking any action until they hear you out. This woman,” here Yukito put his arm around Tomoyo’s shoulders and hugged her tightly, “saved your life. It was a miracle.” Yukito smiled serenely and murmured, “God was smiling on you today, Syaoran.”

“God hasn’t smiled on me in a long time,” Syaoran hissed and then he closed his eyes.

…

Sakura’s mouth hurt. Tomoyo had brought some numbing ointment for her torn lips, but it did little to help. She was sitting on the bed in the room she had been kept in, propped against her pillows with the quilt drawn up around her hips. Fai was sitting beside her, holding her hand so tightly that she couldn’t feel her fingers. 

Again, she said, “Fai, you can let go. I’m not going to disappear if you don’t cut the circulation off from my fingers.”

Again, Fai released her with a nervous apologetic little laugh. “Sorry, Sakura, but I thought I lost you…”

“I’m alright,” she said.

Kurogane was sitting the wrong way on a chair, his arms folded and resting on the back. “Apparently, we have Syaoran to thank for that.”

“Sakura, are you sure?” Fai asked again. “I mean, look at your mouth–”

“He didn’t bite me,” Sakura snapped, interrupting Fai. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Sure, sure,” Kurogane grumbled. He stood up and left the room. Sakura heard him talking to Yukito and Tomoyo in the hallway. 

She sighed deeply and closed her eyes. Her hand went to her mouth, touching the torn edges of skin. Painfully, she wet her lips. “Fai, do you believe me?”

He chewed his lip. “I don’t know, Sakura. There is definitely something strange going on with this story. Not everything is adding up anymore,” he confessed. “But I don’t know if we should believe him just yet.”

Sakura hit her head against the frame of the bed. “But, you saw his body,” she protested. “He wouldn’t do that to himself.”

“It could have been one of his victims, fighting back,” Fai pointed out quietly. 

“But he’s so strong. I stabbed him with a fork–”

“Whoa, Sakura, whoa! You stabbed him? With a fork?”

She nodded. “I tried to escape. He stopped me. He is so strong. To hurt him like that, this person would have to have had help or been a freaking black belt who lifted weights,” she said.

Fai blinked at her. “I don’t know, Sakura. We just have to see.”

Sakura nodded and wrapped her arms around her brother. He hugged her tightly, breathing into her hair. He clutched her small body tightly to his hard frame. Sakura felt him shaking with sobs and her jade eyes welled with tears. 

“I’m sorry, Fai,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

He kissed her forehead and then crushed her to him again. “Oh God, Sakura, I almost lost you. I almost lost everything…”

She dug her fingers into his back and sobbed. “I know, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry…”

The door closed quietly and Sakura only glimpsed Kurogane. She thanked him quietly and then the siblings were left to cry in private anguish. 

…

“How are they?” Tomoyo asked Kurogane as he sat down on the arm of the couch next to her. He may have sat beside her on the cushions except the entire sofa was covered in dried blood and Tomoyo was sitting on the only clean spot.

“Distraught,” Kurogane said shortly and glowered at Yukito as he exited Syaoran’s room. 

“Stop it,” Tomoyo scolded. “He only did what he thought was best. You have no right to judge.”

“I’m a police officer–” he growled, but Tomoyo interrupted him.

“Exactly, you are not a judge or a one man jury so lay off them.”

Glaring at her, Kurogane stood up and peeked into the kid’s room as if to be sure he was still there.

“He’s not going anywhere. He’s tied to the bed. Take it easy,” Tomoyo said. She fished a nail file from her pocket and began filing away. “Sit down. At this point, all we can do is wait.”

Kurogane growled, but sat down on the arm of the sofa once again. 

Upstairs, the church organ tuned to life as Yukito began the afternoon sermon.

Tomoyo was right. All they could do was wait…

X X X

Anyone who has played Kingdom Hearts: have you noticed the shocking similarities between Sora and Syaoran? They both have doubles/clones. They both restore the heart of a princess with three companions. They’re both even voiced by the same guy, Miyu Irino! It’s a little frightening.

That is why Sora gets to be Syaoran’s twin. =) 

The only thing I had to change between them was the color of Sora’s eyes. Other than that, they’re already very similar.

Questions, comments, concerns?


	7. Assault! Rats Everywhere!

My mom left me a list of chores about a mile long to do today because she’s too lazy to do them herself so I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to get done today. Especially since she’s been in such a pissy mood lately that I have to run and hide up in my room as soon as she comes home.

And it’s so hard to write two stories at the same time! Even worse, I’ve thought of an idea for another, plus an original work that I dreamed of last night. Jeez… I don’t know what I’m going to do. Hopefully once I get one of these two I have already going on a roll, the other ideas will stop breeding plot bunnies! Grr! Everybody wish me luck or else things are going to go on hold again.

And school is starting September first so updates may become a little erratic. Screw my life, man. 

This is a completely new chapter!

X X X

It was hard to wait for Syaoran to come back around, but he had lost a lot of blood and his body had been beaten within an inch of its life. Tomoyo said he would need a good bit of rest and some good food before he’d be much use to them. 

Kurogane had taken up pacing the stone-lined hallway, pausing occasionally to glower at Tomoyo who had taken up a post in front of the door to the room Syaoran was in. She was preventing Kurogane from barging in and throttling the information out of the boy, regardless of the state of his body. Fai and Sakura had heaved the cushions off the bloodstained couch, flipped them soiled-side down, and taken up seats there. 

Upstairs, Yukito was preparing a small meal for them before his next mass.

Sakura was watching Kurogane pacing back and forth, back and forth back and forth. Caramel hair feathering against her cheeks and neck.

“You’re going to hurt your neck if you don’t stop watching him, Sakura,” Tomoyo said. 

Sakura glanced at Tomoyo and cracked her neck loudly just to annoy the other girl. Fai smiled and hugged his little sister against his side. 

Finally, Kurogane stopped pacing and leaned against the wall to glower holes through the door. He was nothing if not impatient. 

They all talked quietly amongst themselves while they waited for Syaoran to come around, but… 

A few short hours later, Fai’s pager went off. There had been another murder, this one seemingly more violent than the others. Since Syaoran was safely chained to the bed with Tomoyo sitting in front of the door, it was clear that he hadn’t committed it. Though there was a small chance he had been able to arrange something done outside through Yukito or some other means, it was very unlikely as he had been unconscious and near death.

“Alright,” Fai said and stood up from the couch. “Kurogane and I are going to head out. Sakura and Tomoyo, you girls stay here with him.”

Sakura nodded and hugged Fai tightly. “Be carefully. Something bad is about to happen,” she murmured.

Fai put his fingers through her hair and hugged her even tighter, cutting the air from her lungs. 

Kurogane gripped Fai’s shoulder and pulled him off. “Come on, let’s get moving,” he said and already started walking away down the hallway, half-dragging Fai behind him. Kurogane was not one for drawn out goodbyes, especially since no one would be able to get to Sakura and Tomoyo down here beneath the church wile Yukito guarded the entrance.

“I love you, Sakura,” Fai called. “Be careful!”

“We will,” Sakura called and waved to her brother. Then, she heard the big door close and she was left underground again. 

“Well, at least you have me this time,” Tomoyo said with a grin.

Sakura sat down beside her and produced a deck of cards that Yukito had brought down for them. “That’s true. Go Fish?”

“If we must,” Tomoyo said with a giggle.

Sakura dealt out the cards and they began to play to pass the time.

…

No one knew about the rat in the police force.

…

There was a lot of commotion upstairs in the church. Sakura heard gunfire and screaming. Then, there was a loud horrible explosion. A broken crucifix came bouncing down the stone steps and spun to rest at Tomoyo’s feet. She looked up at Sakura, face chalk pale and eyes wide.

“Sakura,” she whispered.

Sakura lurched to her feet, scattering cards everywhere. She grabbed Tomoyo’s hand and pulled her into the room where Syaoran was still unconscious. She grabbed the young man’s shoulders and shook his wildly. Syaoran eyes flashed open, focused on her for a moment, rolled into the back of his head, and then snapped back.

“What…?” he gasped out. 

“Untie him,” Sakura said to Tomoyo and they both set to work on the bonds. Another explosion rocked the church and something else clattered down the stairs. “Hurry up, Tomoyo! Is there another way out of here?”

For a moment, Syaoran thought hard, wriggling his arm after Sakura freed it. Then, he shook his head. “No, all the other exits are blocked by modern construction,” he told them. “Wait, there’s one, but I don’t know where it comes out.”

“We’ll have to try it,” Sakura said. “There’s no other choice.” She glanced at the open doorway. 

Tomoyo grabbed her surgical scissors from her first aid kit and hacked through Syaoran’s remaining bonds. Then, they each grabbed one of his hands and hauled him upright. Syaoran stumbled and crashed into Sakura, slamming her shoulder into the wall. Sakura grunted and Tomoyo grabbed Syaoran’s other side, supporting him. Together, the girls half-dragged half-carried Syaoran down the hallway, following his directions. 

The farther into the maze of tunnels they went, the darker and dustier things got. Soon, it was pitch black as Sakura hadn’t been looking for a light switch and a light would alert their pursuers to their location. 

Groping along the wall, she said to Syaoran, “Are you sure this is the right way?”

Tomoyo grunted, knocking her shoulder against something in the darkness.

“Yes.” Syaoran said. His voice was breathy and something rattled painfully in his lungs.

“Are you alright?” Tomoyo asked him.

Syaoran panted and then whispered, “I’ll live. We need to hurry. It’s Fei-Wang.”

Sakura’s blood ran cold and Tomoyo gasped. 

“We need to hurry,” Sakura repeated and dragged Syaoran even faster. She could feel his body trembling against her side, skin growing cold with sweat. His legs were weak and shaking and he was beginning to lose the ability to support himself. “Hold on…” she whispered to him.

“We’re almost there,” he wheezed and coughed deeply. Sakura felt something in his chest rattling and something splattered on the cold stone floor… blood maybe? 

“Okay,” Sakura whispered. “Just hold on.”

Then, they all slammed into a wall. Tomoyo lost her grip on Syaoran and fell on her ass. Sakura heard something crack sickeningly and, when she called Tomoyo’s name, there was no answer. Syaoran reached out and found the old iron knob. It grinded and creaked as he turned it. 

“I’m alright,” he panted and Sakura felt him shift to lean heavily on the door. 

She knelt down, groping around the stone floor for Tomoyo. She found the young woman’s body and quickly measured for breath. Tomoyo was alright, breathing deeply. She had just given her head a good knock and she was unconscious. Heaving her friend’s arm over her shoulders, Sakura dragged Tomoyo to her feet, but her legs were limp beneath her. Tomoyo was dead weight. 

Syaoran grunted and Sakura heard him throw himself at the door. Immediately, it flew open, spilling him out into the dim twilight. For a long moment, he lay there, whimpering in agony. He sounded like a kitten, dying and lost, needing its mother. Sakura was too busy holding up Tomoyo and it was all she could do to kick the door closed behind them.

“Please, you have to get up,” Sakura said to Syaoran. “We need to get out of here!”

He whimpered, got his arms underneath himself, and managed to heave himself up onto his knees. There was blood dripping off his chin, pouring from his mouth where his teeth had gone through the split in his lip. Sakura gasped, reaching out to him with the hand that wasn’t holding Tomoyo tight against her side. He gripped her fingers, smearing blood on her skin, but didn’t have the strength to get up. 

“I can’t…” he whispered. “Go on without… me, please…”

Sakura desperately looked at him. He had risked himself to save her and now his body was falling apart around him. She couldn’t just leave him… Sakura adjusted Tomoyo’s weight and gripped his wrist, hauling on him. “No, come on. You can do it,” she murmured. “You have to get up! I won’t leave you!”

He shook his head and wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his hand, smearing more blood across his face. “I… can’t. Just go… I don’t matter. Besides… he won’t… kill me…”

Sakura dragged at him, but it was too much weight between him and Tomoyo. “Please,” she begged.

Syaoran shook his head. “Go…”

“I don’t want to leave you…” Sakura whispered.

“You won’t have to.” The new voice went down her spine like a blade of ice and Sakura whirled to face a big man with a square jaw and flint-black eyes. His close cropped dark hair was streaked with white at the front. He was wearing a black suit with a blood-colored tie and a silver monocle in his eye. 

“Fei-Wang Reed…” Sakura whispered though she didn’t know how she knew it. She dug her fingers into Tomoyo’s arm, gripping the young nurse tightly. Fei-Wang advanced on Sakura and she tried to stumble backwards. Her heels bumped against Syaoran’s side and she almost fell over him backwards. God only knew what stayed her so that she could step over him. Then, only Syaoran’s slumped body separated her from Fei-Wang and she didn’t want to stray too far from him. 

“Come on, Sakura. Now, we can follow my original plan,” Fei-Wang said.

“You’ll kill me…?” she whispered.

On the ground, something drove Syaoran into a sitting position. His eyes glowed when he looked up into Fei-Wang’s face. “Let them go. You can have me,” he whispered.

“And what good are you to me, my boy?”

“The police know I’m innocent,” he whispered.

Sakura winced.

“So, you think I can cause just as deep an impact on those detectives if I murder you?”

Syaoran glared up at Fei-Wang. “Just… let them go, please…”

Fei-Wang shook his head. “What is it with your family? Everyone’s dying wish is to save someone else.”

Syaoran’s face paled and he licked his bloody lips. “Let them go.”

“I can’t do that, but I tell you what… I’ll take you all together.”

Cold hands grabbed Sakura from behind and then a rag with chloroform on it was slammed over her nose and mouth. For some reason, all she could think to do was hold fast to Tomoyo, refusing to let the young woman go. The last thing she saw was Syaoran’s stricken face and how he tried to stand up, how he tried to protect her, but Fei-Wang slammed the butt of his handgun into Syaoran’s back and the young man dropped like a stone. The ground rushed up to meet her and then everything went black.

X X X

That other idea really won’t leave me alone. I may have to start another story if I can’t get rid of it. That’ll be three running stories… oh God… Please leave me alone, plot bunnies!

Questions, comments, concerns?


	8. The Reason Why?

Man, school starts on the first. That’s so soon. Summer is almost over. I’m so sad! Waaaaaaaaah!

X X X

It was dark and chilly. Wind was howling at a rattling window and Sakura noticed pale moonlight filtering in through some filthy glass. Once her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed that the room was scarcely furnished with a simple wooden dresser and a stained mattress on a rusty metal frame. Sakura was in a heap in the corner with her hands shackled to the wall behind her. The chill from the floor had seeped into her body. Her arms and legs had gone numb from her scrunched position. She stretched them out in front of her and tried to get some feeling back into her limbs, but to no avail. Tomoyo was laid out on the cot and Syaoran was nowhere to be seen.

“Tomoyo!” Sakura whispered. Her voice was hoarse and quiet. 

The young woman didn’t stir. She looked pale and still with her dark hair falling in waves over the side of the cot. 

Sakura cleared her throat and tried again. “Tomoyo!”

Tomoyo stirred, but didn’t wake. Sakura noticed that Tomoyo was also bound to the cot, not with shackles but a length of grimy cotton rope. Sakura turned to look at her own shackles. They were cold metal cuffs attached to a length of thin light chain and bolted to the wall high above her head. Sakura would be able to stand and move a few feet in a small semicircle when she was finally able to get up. 

She called Tomoyo’s name again and then gave up, slumping back against the cold wall. 

Tomoyo was still deeply unconscious. She probably had a concussion. 

Sakura got her legs underneath her and heaved herself upright by pulling on the chains that kept her arms secured. Her legs trembled weakly beneath her, but finally steadied and Sakura managed to stand without the support of the wall. Stretching out to the end of the chains, she tried to reach the dresser, but was unable to. She pulled off her sneaker and hooked her toes around the knob. Then, she was able to heave the drawer open, but it was hard to make out the contents. She pulled off her sock, stuck her foot into the drawer, and groped around with her toes, trying to figure out what was in the drawer. It felt like… syringes and bottles? She kicked the drawer closed and toed open the one below it. Groping around again, she found even more bottles and syringes. In the third drawer, she found something cool and made out of glass that she couldn’t identify. There were no other drawers in the small dresser. 

With nothing else in her reach to investigate, she sat back down in the corner, crossing her legs Indian style to allow circulation. Then, she sat down to wait.

…

Grey dawn was peeking in through the filthy window when the door was flung open and Syaoran was shoved in. His face was a mess of blood and bruises, but most of his torso was bare of new injuries. It seemed that Fei-Wang had only beaten his face. 

“Syaoran!” Sakura said eagerly and lurched to her feet. She wanted to run to him, momentarily forgetting about the chains, and her arms were roughly jerked back. Her shoulders screamed in agony and she hit her knees at the shock of the jolt. 

He groaned, clawing at the concrete floor with his tattered fingernails. Weakly, he crawled over to Sakura and collapsed a few feet from her. 

“Syaoran, here, come here,” she coaxed. It wouldn’t be any good for his wounded face to be pressed against this grubby floor.

Once again, he crawled a few feet, but this time made it into her arms… or at least close enough that she could grip his shoulders and heave him the rest of the way. She cradled his face gently in her hands, taking in the damage. Both his eyes were swollen shut, his mouth looked like it had been purposefully cut with a knife all the way around, and a portion of his cheek had been skinned to the bone and was sluggishly oozing thick blood. 

“Oh god,” she whispered. “Why is he doing this to you?”

Syaoran’s eye cracked open, revealing a small slit of glow-in-the-dark amber. “I know…” he whispered. “I know why my family was fighting with him…”

Sakura brushed some hair out of his eyes, wincing as it stuck to the skinned part of his face. Syaoran didn’t seem to feel it though. His mind had probably gone numb from the pain. 

“Why?” Sakura whispered.

“He’s a drug lord…” he gasped in agony. “And my family has always been pharmacists. My father knew the special formula for…” he paused, breathing heavily, “Poppy Tears.”

“Opium?” she repeated.

He dipped his head and then moaned in anguish. 

“Why would he be after you then?” she asked. 

Syaoran’s breath rattled in his lungs. “Because… I know it, too…”

“Why would you know it?”

“I was to follow in my father’s footsteps, so he taught both Sora and I the formula…”

“You know the formula for making opium…?”

He nodded weakly. “It used to save lives, acting as a low-cost morphine for poorer families so they could have surgeries and other life saving operations and have cheap pain medicines to get them through it. Our formula creates opium with only half the poppies, making it cheaper and easier to produce but just as powerful.” 

“That sounds wonderful, so why would Fei-Wang want it?”

“If Fei-Wang gets our formula, he can make twice the heroin with half the opium.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. So many people were already dying because of the heroin Fei-Wang sold. If he was able to mass-produce it and sell even more potent doses, even more people would die. And if the formula was spread around, soon the entire world would be drowning in heroin.

“Oh, god,” she whispered.

Syaoran nodded. Then, his amber eyes slipped closed and then he collapsed against her. His breath rattled deep in his chest, shaking like his heart was loose. Sakura adjusted her legs and laid his head in her lap, supporting him as gently as she could. She cradled his head against her chest, stroking his cold unwounded cheek with her fingertips, and tried to fill his cold body with the heat from her flesh. Then, she leaned back against the wall behind her, shivering with cold, and finally fell asleep.

X X X

And my whole opium drug formula thing might be a little off and not make all that much sense, but I needed some reason for them to be fighting and that seemed my best bet without making Syaoran’s family drug lords as well.

Questions, comments, concerns?


	9. His Sacrificial Escape

*Le gasp* An update! I know, I know, I’m such a slowpoke, but I’ve been so busy lately!

Stupid school and chores and life and soccer season and all the other stuff I have to do! The only time I have to write is ten minute every afternoon before dinner. 

So, here we go, a chapter!

X X X

Sakura was woken up by the grinding sound of the door sliding open which pulled her from the deep abyss of sleep. Then, the sound of Tomoyo screaming jerked her viciously from her dreams. Sakura knocked her head against the wall in shock, sending an explosion of sparks shooting behind her eyes. Syaoran’s head slipped from her lap, slammed into the cold concrete floor, and he whimpered in agony. Sakura saw his amber eyes flutter open, dark and occluded with blood. A dark shadow was looming over Tomoyo, pinning her to the bed as she struggled wildly. 

“Get off her!” Sakura shouted, struggling against her chains. 

Syaoran rolled over onto his stomach, pushed himself weakly upright, and scrabbled to his feet. Lurching, he slammed his shoulder into the man attacking Tomoyo. The man pitched headlong over the side of the cot, slamming into the floor. Then, Syaoran collapsed on top of Tomoyo, panting desperately and hacking up bright blood into the mattress.   
Tomoyo cradled him with her knees to prevent him from falling, still finding the mindset to be concerned for him. His blood smeared across her shirt from his damaged face.  
The man Syaoran had attached was lying still on the cold concrete floor and Sakura could see a spreading puddle of crimson reaching out across the floor. Maybe he had had a knife and had fallen on it. That meant… he had been coming to kill Tomoyo!

“Sakura!” Tomoyo croaked. “What’s happening?”

Syaoran slid from between her knees, collapsing in a heap on the floor. He reached out, fingers pawing through the thick spreading blood, and with a squelch he produced a knife. The hilt was carved with the tail of a sea monster. Sakura thought of earlier when the face of the creature had been embedded deep in Syaoran’s body. 

Panting heavily, he whispered, “You two have to get out of here. He’ll kill you both.”

“What about you?” Tomoyo asked desperately as Syaoran sliced at the bonds with the blade. 

“Fei-Wang won’t kill me,” Syaoran whimpered once he freed her. “Get his keys from his pockets.”

Tomoyo crouched in the blood and groped in the dark for the keys. Finally, there was a jingling sound and Tomoyo crossed the room to unchain Sakura. Sakura rubbed her chaffed wrists and allowed Tomoyo to help her to her feet. 

“Go out the window,” Syaoran murmured, gripping the mattress and heaving himself onto his knees. “Break the glass with the hilt.”

“We don’t know how far up we are,” Sakura protested and gripped his upper arm. “And you can’t go out the window.”

Syaoran wheezed, “I’m not going. I can’t make it.”

“But, the formula…” Sakura whispered desperately. 

Syaoran shook his head. “He will never get it from me. Never!”

“What formula?” Tomoyo asked, but they ignored her.

“We can’t just leave you here,” Sakura whispered.

“You have to. You can’t get away with me.”

“But–”

He shook his head and pushed Sakura back as hard as he could. His fingers were ice-cold, seeping the chill through her clothes, and trembling weakly. “Go. You have to go,” he whispered. 

Sakura stumbled back from him, eyes welling with tears. “Are you dying?”

He didn’t answer, just pushed the cold weight of the knife into her hands. 

Tomoyo gripped Sakura’s elbow, swaying unsteadily on her feet. “Sakura, I think I have a concussion,” she whispered. “Everything’s spinning.”

Sakura wrapped her arm around her friend and looked desperately at Syaoran. She didn’t want to leave him, not now and not when Fei-Wang had been pursuing them back at the church, but she understood what he was saying. If she brought both him and Tomoyo, both grievously injured, she might not be able to take care of them both. If she left Tomoyo, Fei-Wang would kill her without a second thought. Syaoran would be tortured, but not killed. He was the only one she could leave behind.

She had to leave him.

Sakura broke the window with the tail of the serpent, knocking out all the glass until she had a space large enough for them to fit through. They were on the second floor and the fall would be jarring, but not fatal. She tossed the knife outside, far enough that they wouldn’t fall on it.

“Tomoyo, I’ll help you out first,” Sakura said.

“No, I’ll help her out. You go first,” Syaoran said and staggered over to the girls. He fell into Sakura, ice-cold and sticky with fresh blood. 

She nodded and put her foot on the sill. Then, suddenly, she hugged Syaoran to her tightly and kissed his cheek. “I will come back for you,” she whispered. 

He shook his head and gave her a gentle push. “Go…”

Sakura slipped out the window and fell a full story. When she hit the ground, she dropped and rolled, struggling to catch the breath that had been knocked from her lungs. She looked back up to see Tomoyo perched patiently in the sill, looking down like an avenging angel or heathen god. Then, Tomoyo jumped, too. When she stumbled, Sakura caught her, supporting her friend. She gazed up at the broken window, half-hoping that Syaoran would decide to follow them, but he wasn’t even looking out the window at them. 

“Come on,” Sakura whispered and grabbed the knife from where it was stuck in the dirt like an accusing pointing finger. She immediately wished she had fought Syaoran and forced him to come. She would’ve found some way to take care of him and Tomoyo. “We have to go.”

Tomoyo stumbled and Sakura gripped her around the waist. Then, she turned her back on the young man that had saved her life three times and was sacrificing himself now to prevent the world from drowning in Fei-Wang’s heroin.

Even as they fled from the rundown warehouse, the sky darkened with heavy storm clouds. Within seconds, lightning forked through the sky and thunder crashed like gunfire. Then, the rain came, pouring as ice-cold as dead vampire blood, stinging the girls’ bare flesh. Tomoyo was growing weaker, stumbling every few steps and leaning harder on Sakura. Soon, the young woman passed out and Sakura was struggling through the storm alone. It grew increasingly difficult to put one foot in front of the other, but she had to keep going. She couldn’t stop, not when Syaoran was suffering for their escape. 

She couldn’t stop…

Couldn’t stop…

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns? 


	10. What Sakura Wants

It’s been soooooo incredibly long since I wrote this story. I know, I know!

I’ve been writing nothing but Kingdom Hearts. I’m afraid I’m going to mix up names in here. Try to bear with me, everybody!

X X X

Rain pattered on the windows, pried beneath the sills, dripped through the ancient beams and dinged neatly in buckets, and the wind gusted through the eaves. The warehouse was cold and mostly deserted, outwardly hideous and grey and haunted. Though he knew their chances of finding the girls were low, Fei-Wang had sent out most of his men in an attempt to recapture them.

“So, the girls escaped,” Fei-Wang repeated and steepled his fingers in front of his pursed lips. The dead body of the man he had sent to fetch the young nurse, Tomoyo as he had managed to torture from Syaoran Li, lay on the concrete a few feet away. His spreading blood was a dark pool mixing on the damp floor. “I underestimated Fluorite’s sister.”

In front of him, the guard he had sent to see what was taking so long was kneeling and looking sweaty and nervous. “Y-yes,” he confessed. “They broke the window. They must have jumped out.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you,” Fei-Wang said and grinned coldly. “We still have the boy. The girls were only a last resort to get the formula from him.” He was silent for a long moment. Then, he said plainly, “Bring me the boy.”

The guard stumbled to his feet and hurried to do Fei-Wang’s bidding. 

…

Sakura didn’t know what brought her home, but the next thing she knew was her face was pressed hard into her brother’s front door. Her cold hand fumbled at the knob, struggled with it, and finally discovered it securely locked. Fai must not have been home. He must be out working the case or… looking for her. Sakura slumped down to her knees against the door, pressing her forehead hard into it. 

Tomoyo suddenly felt incredibly heavy on her back.

Sakura’s eyes welled with tears though her face was already drenched. She pounded weakly on the door, frustrated and exhausted. Then, finally, in the cold rain, she slumped down and exhaustion took her greedily into the darkness. 

…

Fai Fluorite was sitting at his kitchen table, nursing a mug of black coffee and scanning the case file. His eyes burned and ached from lack of sleep. He heard weak rapping on the door and momentarily mistook it for the work of the storm. Something urged him to his feet and made him open the door. Slumped in a knot on his doorstep were the sister he had thought he would never see again and Tomoyo. 

His eyes filled with tears as he wrapped them in his arms and dragged them into his house. He made Tomoyo comfortable on the couch and covered her up. Only then did he allow himself to cradle Sakura in his arms and sob at his second blessing. This was the second time she had been taken and returned to him. 

He wouldn’t be taking the chance of losing her ever again.

After what felt like ages, he finally called Kurogane to tell his worried partner that his sister was safe.

...

Sakura had woken up sometime during the night and given Fai extremely detailed information on Fei-Wang’s warehouse, the formula, the state of Syaoran, the man who had been killed on the sea serpent blade, her escape with Tomoyo, and how she had someway found her way to Fai.

“We can break into the warehouse and get this Fei-Wang Reed. He may be related to our Xing-Huo Reed,” Kurogane suggested to Fai when they spoke on the phone a bit later. “If Syaoran Li is not the Fang-Killer, we’ll still have the real killer safely in our hands. Or Syaoran is the killer and we caught a simple drug lord. Either way, it’s good news for us.”

“True,” Fai murmured. “I definitely think we should break into the warehouse and get the boy out. I know Sakura will want that.”

“What Sakura wants doesn’t matter,” Kurogane said sharply. 

They were quiet for a long moment, each thinking about how this young man seemed to have affected Sakura. Stockholm Syndrome maybe? From being trapped with him for so long beneath that church.

“You know this is going to take forever to get through the chief. By the time he approves it, these people may have moved on and it’ll be too late. They could be out of our radar again.”

Fai sighed and bit his lip. “Alright, well, we’ll have to do what we can. This has to stop. I want my sister to be safe again.”

Kurogane grunted in agreement and they talked about the case for a little while longer. 

Then, they hung up. 

Fai rubbed his face, went to the messy kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee, returned to the table, and put his face in his hands without so much as taking a sip. He sighed heavily and finally laid his head on the table. Eventually, he fell asleep and would wake up stiff and sore and slow of mind in the morning.

...

The morning dawned sunny and bright. The world smelled moist and pure, cleansed by the night’s powerful rains. A few heavy branches were cracked and broken, strewn on lawns and across roads, but no big trees had fallen in the night. Worms were soggy and squishy on the sidewalks. Several children were out playing in the mud and puddles and mucking the worms. Mothers yelled at them, telling them not to track mud into the house. Fathers laughed at the antics in careless fashion.

Sakura woke safe and warm in her brother’s bed. She lurched up immediately, Syaoran’s name a tight knot in her throat. Instead, Fai’s name burst from her lips.

Her brother ran into the room, blonde hair flying, blue eyes framed by deep black bruise-like shadows. “What is it?! What’s wrong?!”

“We have to go back for him!” Sakura choked out desperately and gripped Fai’s shirt in her fists. “I left him there! I have to go back! I promised I’d return for him!”

“What? What are you talking about?” Fai gripped Sakura by her skinny shoulders and pushed her back so he could look into her pale panic-stricken face. She still had her mouth open, desperately garbling words in her haste. He put some fingers over her lips, cupped her face gently, and stroked some locks of caramel-colored hair back from her face. “Sakura, take a breath and tell me what happened.”

Sakura gasped in a deep breath and the air rattled in her lungs. “Syaoran is still back there. I had to leave him behind,” she said and lowered her face in shame. “I had to take Tomoyo out of there. Fei-Wang would have killed her… He won’t kill Syaoran.”

“Why not?” Fai asked softly and hugged her tightly to his chest. 

“He knows a formula for making opium and Fei-Wang wants it to make heroin. He’s trying to torture the formula from Syaoran. He won’t kill him until he gets it. Tomoyo is nothing to him. He’d have killed her without a second thought,” she took a deep shuttering breath. “I had to choose… I chose Tomoyo. I left Syaoran behind and he’s saved me three times. I left him behind…”

Fai hadn’t known the boy very long, had only looked at his damaged sleeping face, and wasn’t quite readily to believe that the young man was as innocent as Sakura claimed, but… His beautiful little sister believed him and she was so distraught by the thought that she had left him on the rack of torment. 

But… Fai was selfish. 

He wasn’t willing to sacrifice his little sister in pursuit of a young man who may or may not have been innocent. 

“Sakura, all that matters is that you’re safe,” Fai murmured.

Sakura shoved on his chest, pushing him back. “That’s not all that matters! He’s bearing such torture to keep the formula safe from Fei-Wang. I can’t just leave him there like that.”

“Sakura, please, listen–”

Sakura’s crystal tears welling in her beautiful jade-green eyes interrupted him. “You won’t save him, will you?” Her voice sounded so cracked and broken.

“No, Sakura, I just… I can’t risk losing you again. I’m going to keep you safe somewhere while I keep working on the case.”

“A safe house…” she said sadly, softly.

“To protect you,” Fai tried to explain, but his voice was falling flat in his throat. 

“Syaoran protected me,” she continued, eyes lowered.

“But…” Fai protested.

Silently, Sakura lay back against the pillows and folded her hands neatly over her chest. The tears in her eyes ran down her face as she thought of what he could be going through. Maybe Fei-Wang was cutting his chest with a new knife since Sakura had the tail of the sea serpent resting on the nightstand beside her or striking his back with a whip or shattering his beautiful long fingers… Any amount of horrors could be visited upon him while he waited in vain for her to return for him.

Fai stood quietly and left the room, shoulders hunched. 

Sakura knew he loved her and feared for her. He had already almost lost her twice. In his position, she wouldn’t want to risk it either, but… 

Her heart refused to understand that.

The door closed quietly and Sakura swung her legs out of her brother’s bed. She shoved her feet into her damp sneakers, grabbed the sea serpent knife, tucked it through a belt loop of her jeans, and slipped from the room.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns? 


End file.
